A Delicious Khan Sandwich
by CarrotStructure
Summary: Both Basilio and Flavia are vying for Robin's attention. Who will Robin choose? Or will the two Khans learn to share? Basilio/Robin(F)/Flavia
1. Chapter 1

_"Basilio?! Basilio, wait! What should I do with all these flowers?"_

_"Ah, I'm... not sure. Whatever one normally does with flowers? … Eat them?"_

* * *

Robin reclined in her chair, feet propped up on her tactician's table whilst surrounded by mountains of floral arrangements of varying freshness. Every single visible surface and was covered in leaves and thorns and stalks and stems and petals of every kind. Even Robin's bed was completely obscured by the sheer amount of flower power concentrated in the slightly larger than average but still puny tent. How Khan Basilio acquired so many flowers, during a war no less, was one mystery Robin preferred not to think too hard about. She was sure, like every one else in this blasted army, _they_ _had their ways._

It had all started two weeks ago. Yes—to Robin's chagrin—it only took two weeks to accumulate the monstrous stockpile of flora currently assaulting the poor tactician and her tent. The collection was ever growing as well. Each day at precisely 3:00 p.m. (or what Robin guessed was 3 p.m. anyway), Khan Basilio would arrive with _yet_ _another _wonderful, awaited bouquet of blossoms that Robin would waste several minutes on finding a spot for it, only to give up and throw it on a pile somewhere around the room.

Robin leaned further back in her chair, pushing it into a precarious angle while quietly sighing to herself and staring at her empty wrist. "Aaaand he should be here any moment now." Robin pushed her chair against the floor and placed her elbows on the table to cradle her head. Just as she predicted, the entrance to Robin's tent rustled gently before being roughly thrown aside, revealing the man in question. "Welcome, Khan Basilio!" announced Robin to no one in particular, voice heavy with sarcasm.

When Basilio entered, he bowed before looking around at his imaginary audience while shouting thanks to his fans. As Basilio approached the table Robin was resting her elbows on, Robin noticed his latest gift—another pile of beautiful multi-color corsages consisting of flowers Robin had never even seen before—which the Khan wasted no time presenting. Robin took the flowers, giving the Khan an empty smile as she placed as many flowers as she could in a prepared vase at her side, careful not to spill any water from the already-overflowing container. Robin thought it wise not to immediately cast the flowers aside as she had planned to do as soon as the Khan took his exit.

"So, Khan Basilio, to what do I owe you the pleasure of this visit? Are you here for a chat or to try (and fail) to recruit me as your toady, which, frankly, I find quite insulting." Robin crossed her arms like a petulant child and let out a dramatic puff, causing her bangs to fly upwards and eliciting a hearty chuckle from the other man.

"I know you enjoy my company, Robin; there's no need to pretend otherwise," the Khan let out a hearty chuckle before readjusting himself in his chair and placing his arms on the table, mimicking Robin. "However, there is purpose to this visit, if that matters to you."

"Well, did you have to bring more flowers?" she shook her head, "Honestly, if you keep bringing me gifts every day, people might begin to think things about us, if they don't already," Robin let out a noise akin to laughter but stopped when she didn't see the khan do the same. In fact, his face was completely serious as he spoke.

"Let them talk," as the Khan said this, he leaned in slightly closer, till Robin's face and his were a palm-width apart. "Robin, I think I have feelings for you. And no," he reclined back into his chair, more relaxed, "This is not a plot to persuade you to become my lackey, although the position is still open, if you're interested," Basilio let out a tiny grin at the last part, letting his canines show. Robin merely sat there, stunned and surprised at this new discovery.

"Oh, um. Khan Basilio," she shifted in her chair similar to how the other had a moment before, "I-I'm flattered but this seems, uh…" Robin looked around the room for something to say but ultimately ended training her eyes back on Khan Basilio's own eyes. "So, you've been trying to court me? With these mountains of flowers?"

"Yes."

"Basilio," Robin stopped to laugh a little at how weird it all was. "Maybe we should get to know each other more _as friends_ before either of us delve into this courtship malarkey." Before Basilio could interject, Robin continued. "I don't even like flowers and you have given me," Robin turned, pretending to count the massive piles littering her room for added effect, "over 700 floral arrangements these past two weeks." Basilio sat there, no doubt processing this new information. "Even if I did like flowers, 50 arrangements a day seems a tad excessive."

"You don't like flowers," he repeated to himself. "You seemed receptive the first time. Although, that is probably something I should have found out before buying all these," he made a broad sweeping gesture around the room. Robin let out a chuckle hearty enough to match Basilio's.

"Well, at least I can use these flowers to make some sort of tea or I could give them to Cynthia." Robin paused. "Orrrrrr I could throw them in the air and frolic in them. Basilio, you should accompany me, especially since this would be a valuable opportunity for us to get to know each other better," Robin grinned, already grabbing an armful of bouquets, causing Basilio to sigh deeply.

"Eh, why not?" Basilio shrugged before turning to grab an armful of flowers, pausing only momentarily as Robin threw more arrangements till Basilio was practically drowning in them. Robin held the tent open for the Feroxian ruler.

"Off we go!"

* * *

AN: This is written for my friend, eighttails, who put the idea of a Khan Sandwich (Flavia/Robin/Basilio) in my head. I hope you burn and suffer for your crimes. The next chapter will feature Flavia. If this fic goes as planned, odd chapters will feature Basilio while even ones will have Khan Flavia (my favorite khan, if I may add.)


	2. Chapter 2

Flavia pushed aside the flaps to Robin's tent and stepped in, steps heavy with power and yet ever so graceful. Khan Flavia gave a cursory scan of the room, raising her eyebrow slightly at the heaps of what-must-have-once-been-beautiful-but-was-now-dyi ng flowers thrown around the room in haphazard piles. Flavia wasn't the least bit surprised to see the state of Robin's tent, given the fact that its sickly sweet smell had traveled all the way to the other side of camp, practically forcing Flavia to investigate its cause.

"Robin, I want a word with you." Flavia said as she sat herself down across from the tactician, causing Robin to look up over the massive pile of books the tactician was currently hunched over.

"If it's about the flowers, I can explain. Khan Basilio left them for me. Although, it is nice to see you, Khan Flavia" Robin said, as chipper as ever. She put down her quill and capped her ink bottle, not wanting to spill all over the archaic, priceless books in front of her or all over her neatly written notes.

"That old oaf did this?" Flavia made a face. "I can't say I'm surprised. However, that's beside the point. Robin, has anyone told you how brilliant of a tactician you are for someone so young? In fact, I am very much an admirer of yours," Flavia said while smiling, adding an air of sincerity to the compliment. "You are quick witted, bold, and decisive; everything a superior tactician should be. Young Chrom is lucky to have you in his employ."

Robin let out a small laugh. "I am honored, Khan Flavia, but did you come here just to compliment me or is there something else you needed?"

This, in turn, caused the Feroxi ruler to let out a deep, throaty laugh. "Curt as ever, Robin," Flavia leaned in, "I like that in a woman, though humility is not quite your color."

Robin's cheeks were tinted pink as she felt blood rush to them. "Oh." She paused momentarily and hesitated, choosing her words carefully.

"You almost sound disappointed," Flavia leaned back into her chair, creating more distance between her and the tactician. "Once this war is over, I want you to be my wife," Flavia said.

"Me?" A look of surprise found its way onto Robin's face.

"Yes," Khan Flavia nodded. "I've traveled all over Ylisse and Ferox and there seems to be a shortage of beautiful, intelligent, and courageous women and people of your caliber are quite hard to find." At this point, Khan Flavia rested her hands on the table and stared directly into Robin's eyes. "At my side, everyone will be able to see your worth and brilliance as both a tactician and a wife."

Robin sat still in her seat, absolutely stunned by Flavia's request. She spoke slowly and deliberately chose her words carefully.

"Khan Flavia, I am honored by your, um, proposition. However, I think I need some time to think this all over."

Flavia got up and pushed her chair in, signaling the conversation was near its end.

"Yes, of course. You mull it over then return to me with an answer." She turned to leave and was halfway out the tent when Robin spoke again.

"Th-thank you. I'll do that." Robin wiped imaginary sweat off her brow before delving back into her studies. "Those khans sure are intense," she said to no one in particular.

AN: Yaaay. I wrote something! I know, I'm a lazy fart. But, I've been pretty busy with school and stuff lately. I don't really like this chapter but I'm pretty excited to write the next scene which will _not_ be based off a support conversation huehuehuehue. If I get off my lazy butt and actually work, chapter three should be up soon. Thanks to anyone who still reads this garbage. I love you all. *Throws flower petals around you Cynthia-style*


	3. Chapter 3

The mess hall was alight with waning candlelight and boisterous conversations between rosy-cheeked neophytes of soldiers. The savory smell of bear stew and the crunch of stale bread permeated throughout every inch of the area, replacing empty bellies with fuller ones. With every minute, the tent rippled with life as drunkards fell out of their chairs and into the heavy canvas.

In a small section near the very back of the tent sat the two khans, completely separated from the pale-skinned, lean soldiers of Ylisse. Away from the hustle and bustle of the center of the tent, the Feroxis were having a lackadaisical conversation about royal affairs over cheap, wooden mugs filled with expensive mead. As the two drank deeply, the one would occasionally rise and refill their mug from the clear-green bottle on the table.

"So, Flavia," Basilio burped, leaning backwards into his chair which creaked with every shift of weight, "I don't think you called me here just to discuss our elderly." He paused for a dramatic effect. "What did you really have in mind?" He swirled around the golden liquid and watched it slosh around in his cup.

"Obviously." She downed her drink and practically threw the now empty mug onto the table with some force. "I heard you've been visiting _my_ tactician."

Basilio let out a hearty laugh from the depths of his well-toned belly. "You don't own Robin." He took a swig and let out a small _ahhh_ as he finished what was left of his drink. "No one does. She courts, _and is courted by_, whoever she chooses."

"Hah! I don't think crass comments and rotting flowers count as courting, you idiot." Although Flavia seemed calm, Basilio knew she was seething on the inside. He also knew that, given the opportunity, Flavia would not hesitate to come to blows with her fellow khan. And yet, despite the white hot steam practically being expelled from Flavia's ears, he decided to push.

"And what do _you_ consider courtship then? Barging into her tent and practically forcing her to marry you?" Basilio said, more serious this time. Basilio had already lost the ruling rights to Ferox in the last tournament to this witch, making him even more determined _not_ to lose Robin.

"At least," she paused to inch closer to Basilio's face with her brow furrowed, "I made my intentions clear. If you don't leave her alone," Flavia cracked her knuckles to show that she was serious, "I will rip your balls off."

Basilio gulped—he could practically feel the pain gripping his testicles already—but his pride refused to let him back down. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

A pregnant silence hung in the air as Flavia and Basilio stared each other down, their eyes doing all the talking for them. Suddenly, Flavia got up and pushed her chair in.

"I'm certain," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, "that you will make the right decision for both you _and _your future children." She gave him one unfriendly death-grip-squeeze before exiting the tent, taking the nearly empty bottle of mead with her.

_AN: Well, it took me a while to write this chapter and there isn't very much of it. Hahaha. You can blame that on school and Animal Crossing. Also, I hate writing dialogue because I'm so bad at it Oh well, practice makes perfect, right?_


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